“You can’t put your hands on my daughter.”

The sharp sting of the old woman’s hand across my cheek didn’t hurt as much as it annoyed me. I moved into Mrs. Davis’ space, every ounce of patience I’d once possessed gone. “I will do whatever the fuck I have to do to for Molly.” Her eyes softened, but I didn’t. “So shut the fuck up and get out of my way.”

My growling response intimidated her, and even though I would never touch her, she slid to the side, giving me room to pass. Then she grabbed her granddaughter and pulled her out of the house.

Molly had dropped into a chair and began shaking, her face filled with emotion. I knelt in front of her, getting eye level. “You okay? She didn’t hurt you, did she?”

After a few minutes, the shaking subsided as she shook her head and mumbled, “I didn’t say anything back. Nate would be so proud of me.”

Not sure what she was talking about, I offered as much comfort as I could, rubbing her back up and down. “They’re outside, she’s not coming back in.”

“She’s calling the cops.”

It wasn’t a question, but I nodded anyway. “Yeah.”

“She hates me. Even after all this time, she still hates me.” She sounded so surprised that it made my heart hurt. “Why does she hate me so much?”

I’d seen some crazy shit, been in the middle of some wild bar fights, and had more than a few of my friends go head to head. Women are fucking brutal, bringing up the past and flinging that shit like it’s mud. I couldn’t even begin to process what I’d overheard, but I did know that Molly’s past had just come out in the most unpleasant way possible and that she was hurting in a way that I couldn’t fix. I didn’t even know where to start handling this. “I don’t know, babe.”

“I’m sorry you had to see all that.” Molly motioned to the hall behind me. “I’m sorry you had to do that.” She shrugged. “Hell, I’m sorry for everything.”

“Don’t you be sorry, babe. This is not on you.”

Her eyes searched my face. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Standing up for me.” She shrugged. “For being here. I know it’s your job, but thank you anyway.”

Those words hit me like a kick to the stomach. “You think I did that shit ‘cause I work for you?” My hand touched her good cheek, sliding my fingers over the tear-stained flesh and into her hair, pulling her face closer to me. “I’m not here as your employee, Mols. I’m here as your friend. I’ve got your back, remember?” I leaned my forehead against hers. “Whatever bullshit you just heard her say, that’s all it is. Bullshit. Do not take it on.”

My lips moved to hers because comforting her was the only thing I wanted to do. I needed her to understand that she was nothing like the person her hag of a sister had just described. She was…shit, she was everything. Surprisingly, she kissed me back softly before pulling away.

“This really isn’t my home anymore, is it?” She looked around the hall. “I really am all alone.”

“Not true. You’ve got Nate and Lia. You’ve got the band.” Her eyes filled with unshed tears. “And you have me.” I shrugged. “You’re stuck with me, kid. I’m not going anywhere.”

Chapter Thirteen~ Molly ~

I stared at an old picture of my family, drowning out the noise behind me. This picture, holding all five of us smiling up at the camera, was only one of a few in existence. Anneslee, my oldest sister, was twenty years older than I was—old enough to be my mom if you thought about it. Roxanne was only eleven years older than me, so there were plenty of pictures of the two of us, and plenty of snapshots of my sisters together. Yet my mom only had a few dozen photos of the three of us together. Add in my mom and dad, and we only ever managed to pose together a handful of times.

The one in front of me had been taken a few years after I was born. My parents, dressed in their tacky eighties best, sat with me between them, while my sisters stood behind them, beaming at the camera. We looked so happy. Too bad it was all a lie.

We’d never been happy. We’d pretended, sure. My parents tried. But having three daughters spread so far apart with such varying personalities was hard. I didn’t know the parents they had been to Anneslee. And she didn’t know the parents they had been to me.

It made sense that Anneslee was never around. She was in college by the time I came along, living it up in New York City, and she rarely came home to visit. Daddy always said that she hated country life as much as it hated her. Even now, pushing fifty, she lived in the city, enjoying the freedom single life allowed her. It wasn’t that far of a drive, but to her, our childhood home might as well have been in another galaxy.

Roxy, on the other hand, had never left the area. She didn’t go college, giving up an amazing scholarship and marrying her high school sweetheart, starting a family instead. She was everything I’d never wanted to be—a Suzie homemaker. I didn’t have anything against the women who stayed home for their children. Hell, one day, if I ever were blessed with a family, I’d spend every second I could with my loves until it was time for them to go to school. Roxy, though, did it because she didn’t want to work. Her only adult outlet was the women in her bible study and the families she mingled with after church on Sunday. Ruthie had two big brothers, but she was the family baby. At least, she was the youngest grandchild my family got to know.

I had made choices as a teenager that none of my family agreed with. Decisions that in the darkest part of the night I would rehash over and over, wondering what life would be like now if I’d chosen a different path. I refused to say I regretted the things I’d done, because I would never change things. He was better off with a family who considered him their miracle, not my family who would have considered him a burden or a disgrace. I knew that. Yet sometimes, I would allow myself the torture of wondering how things could be. Didn’t everyone wonder how their lives could be different, though?

I sighed, turning away from the wall of memories and stared out into the dark of the backyard. I could hear my mother in the kitchen, still talking to the Essex County Sheriffs, who had driven out to the house earlier in response to what I’m sure was Roxy’s overly dramatic 911 call. I didn’t want to listen to what she had to say because it didn’t matter. However, every now and then, I heard words like, “family,” and “home.”

Mike spoke in harsh tones on the phone behind me. He’d been on his cell almost nonstop since he’d been interviewed earlier. I didn’t know who he was talking to, and I didn’t care. He was angry, snapping at whoever was on the other end of the line, but part of me was happy he wasn’t yelling at me. I wasn’t sure I could handle it.

He had every right to be pissed. Not only did he have a front row seat to my family drama, but he’d also been hit, kicked, and possibly bitten by my feral sister. Then two annoyed Sheriffs, both who were half Mike’s size, took one look at my face and forced him outside, away from me, where he was treated like he was some sort of dangerous criminal. They kept him out there for almost an hour, saying God knows what, practically stripping our SUV and putting him through the ringer. I was definitely more work than I was worth.

When the blue lights had come flying up the driveway, I’d expected the worst. I’d assumed that they’d escort Mike and me off the property, and that there would be camera crews there to catch my latest misstep. I’d been shocked, however, when my mother stepped forward and told them all that it was her fault, that she’d invited my sister, and that the home was actually mine. They escorted my sister off the property, telling her she was no longer allowed without my permission. That had only made my mother feel worse.